


Compliance

by lucylikestowrite



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Angst, Brainwashing, F/F, Simmons-centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-15
Updated: 2014-10-18
Packaged: 2018-02-21 07:47:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2460485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucylikestowrite/pseuds/lucylikestowrite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Surrender, and you will find meaning. Surrender, and you will find release. Take a deep breath, calm your mind. You know what's best, and what's best is you comply. Compliance will be rewarded. Are you ready to comply, Miss Simmons?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Going...

All you remember from this morning is arriving at the lab and signing in. You remember Coulson cooking you dinner and telling you that everyone misses you. You remember lying awake for the nth night running, mulling over the situation on the boat. But you don't remember anything past signing in. You're not entirely sure if this is because of the fact your brain feels like it has cotton wool wrapped around it, or because you've genuinely lost your memory.

Either way, things certainly aren't looking good. In your experience, waking up oblivious is never a good omen. Waking up oblivious in a Hydra building, however... you have to have to admit, is possibly more frightening than sinking to the bottom of the ocean in a sealed box, which, being honest, was pretty frightening.

And in your groggy state, you're only just noticing that you're in a rather uncomfortable position. You're standing up, back straight, hands up like you're surrendering, and as you force yourself to lift up your eyelids, get your bearings, you hear a voice.

"Ah. You're awake. I was wondering how long it would take for you to wake up. You put up quite a fight. They had to use rather a lot of anaesthetic on you. They might have even mixed some memory serum in there. I do enjoy letting our technicians experiment in new ways."

That would explain it, you think.

"We've had a number of fighters, but you, Miss Simmons, we quite underestimated you. I do hope you don't mind if I don't refer to you as Agent. We thought would be quite confusing, for the both of us, based on the fact that you seem to be rather _confused_ about who you work for."

The way he says confused petrifies you.  You're staring him down but all you can think is if you're confused now, how are you going to end up? Based on your current position, dead seems unlikely. And what makes you sick your stomach is that, right now, you're more terrified of the unknown than death.

He walks into your line of vision, snide and smug and holding a glass, like this is entertainment for him.

In fact, it probably is.

"Staying silent, Miss Simmons? I assure you, that will not last."

He's right in front of you, and you feel powerless; a pawn exactly where he wants you. Your lip wobbles and you look down, determined to put on a brave face. You knew what you were getting into.

He tuts, a finger lifting up your chin so that you're back looking directly into his eyes. You resist the urge to bite at it.

"We can't have you looking down, can we? You'd miss our special presentation." He looks behind him, waving one of his many minions over. "Her eyes, please. I'm eager to begin."

You hope they haven't got a heart rate monitor on you, because you're pretty sure it's sped up alarmingly. Special presentation. Worrying pieces of equipment that look like they aren't going to let you close your eyes any time soon. Your mind starts spinning, and you think of Donnie. Of the code phrase. He was brainwashed. He was taken apart and put back together the way Hydra wanted and he hadn't even known. They'd turned him into a time bomb, a time bomb with the detonator hidden just out of sight. And you're next.

You don't want to think what they could do with a S.H.I.E.L.D agent who has Hydra buried in the back of their brain. Of the damage, they- you could do. Of the people you could hurt.

Of the people you could hurt.

"I see you've figured it out, Miss Simmons. Put together the pieces of the puzzle, as one might say. We've found that this particular method has been incredibly effective, if not slightly drawn out at times. 100% success rate, in fact. You will not be confused for much longer."

"You seem awfully sure of that."

You had tried to keep your voice as level as possible, which now seems to have been an impossible feat.

"It's tried and tested. Surely you, as a scientist would appreciate that?"

"I'm unlikely to appreciate anything you hold in high respect."

"We shall see."

He turns away, and then a screen in front of you flickers into life.

It's mesmerising.

When he turns back, he's speaking to you like he's said this 1000 times before, and you're pretty sure this is entirely possible. "Surrender, and you will find meaning. Surrender, and you will find release. Take a deep breath, calm your mind. You know what's best, and what's best is you comply. Compliance will be rewarded. Are you ready to comply, Miss Simmons?"

"Absolutely not."

The shapes are messing with your head. You're sure this is a terrible sign.

"Who are you and who are you loyal to?"

"I am Jemma Simmons. I am loyal to S.H.I.E.L.D." Despite the fear, it almost feels nice to admit this.

"Wrong answer, I'm afraid. Who are you and who are loyal to?"

"Jemma Simmons. S.H.I.E.L.D." This time she almost spits it at him.

"Turn up the intensity. I'm going to leave her for a few minutes. Mellow her down a bit, I think."

All you want to do is blink. See something else but that horrible swirling. You try to think of anything but the situation. Puppies and tea and sweaters from Anthropologie. But it doesn't work, because all that's on your mind is how much more damage a brainwashed Jemma will do than a dead one. She could hurt people. She could hurt Fitz, she could hurt May or Coulson or Trip.

God help you, you could hurt-

"How are you feeling?"

Was that really a few minutes? It felt like 20 seconds. Maybe he's messing with you, or maybe you're already losing it. You'd prefer the first.

"Rather worse than I did this morning, thank you for asking."

"Wit will not get you anywhere, I'm afraid. You know what's best, and what's best is you comply. Compliance will be rewarded. Are you ready to comply, Miss Simmons?"

"No." Your voice is more ragged than you would like.

You need to blink. You need to give in, maybe you do need to surrender.

"Who are you and who are you loyal to?"

"I-. I'm Jemma Simmons." you pause, and then you can see her face and you know you have to keep fighting. "I'm loyal to S.H.I.E.L.D." 

He sighs, a disappointed teacher wanting more.

"Surrender, and you will find meaning. Surrender, and you will find release. Take a deep breath, calm your mind. You know what's best, and what's best is you comply. Compliance will be rewarded. Are you ready to comply?"

You're so tired. Compliance is lurking at the back of your head, whispering in your ear. Something in you knows that if you let them, the swirls will take over and you will be gone.

"No. I don't. I don't comply." You grit your teeth, bite your lip, and the feeling seems to drag you back to reality. "I will never comply."

If you comply, you can't go back. Not the real you, anyway. You won't get to tell her. Or maybe you already did, maybe she feels the same way and you just can't remember. Everything that isn't right now seems to be getting fuzzy around the edges, like someone is rubbing out your memories, bit by bit.

"Who are you and who are you loyal to?"

"I'm Jemma Simmons." You say it with confidence, and from the look on his face it's not the answer he wants, and you're glad because you were only 95% sure. "I'm loyal to S.H.I.E.L.D"

That one was definitely less certain.

He notes something down, then turns to the ever present assistant.

"I've had quite enough for tonight. Let's see how Agent 46 is feeling in the morning, shall we?"

It's only a little while, or perhaps just thirty seconds, after he's left, leaving you and the endless blue screen that you realise you're not sure who Agent 46 is. You're pretty sure that that's not your name. Your name is...

Your name is...

The lights are never-ending and hypnotising.

Your name is Jemma Simmons and you work for S.H.I.E.L.D.

Your name is Jemma Simmons and you work for S.H.I.E.L.D.

Your name is Jemma Simmons and you work for S.H.I.E.L.D.

The night (he told you it was night) draws on. On and on and on and on into infinity.

It's boring into your skull.

You're aware of tears dripping into your mouth, and you know you have no idea when you started crying. It's entirely possible you've been crying the entire time.

If dying is seeing your life flash before your eyes, this is the opposite, you decide.

Every memory you have, every memory you hold dear, is falling a little farther out of your reach every time you try to reach it. Faces and feelings are fading away into the ether.

But you know that you are Jemma Simmons and that you work for S.H.I.E.L.D. and you hold on to that with everything you have.

If you were to guess, you would say he returns 30 years after he left, but something inside you seems to know that that's illogical. Illogical. You know about logic. You know about logic. Or you don't.

What do you do for S.H.I.E.L.D again?

"Surrender, and you will find meaning. Surrender, and you will find release. Take a deep breath, calm your mind. You know what's best, and what's best is you comply. Compliance will be rewarded. Are you ready to comply, Agent 46?"

Release. Release sounds nice. You would quite like release.

"Who are you and who are you loyal to?"

"Jemma Simmons. I-" you stumble, and you think he is smiling. "I-"

He says something to the man next to him, and you think it was that you're nearly there. You don't know where you nearly are but you know that you're Jemma. Jemma. You have another name, you're sure. There was another name, you said it. Something that comes after Jemma. But.

Jemma. Jemma doesn't sound right.

The right name is completely different. You're searching, frantically. It's there, on the edge of your consciousness, pervading through the drone in your head. It sounds right. It sounds like home and if it's not right you're not sure what could be.

"Who are you and who are you loyal to?"

"I'm Skye."

"Is that all?"

"Skye. That's me." You smile and it is hope.

He smiles and it is horrible.

"Note that down. Subjects at this stage are running on raw emotion. She has almost no memory left."

This confuses you. You were sure you had the answer right. You feel like you like being right.

"Commence the final stage."

The lights that have been constant suddenly up in intensity, and you don't know what you did wrong.

"No! NO! I'm Skye! Skye! I'm telling you who I am please stop! I'm Skye!"

There is one final flash of light.

The equipment holding your eyes open releases, and you pass out.

\--

"Surrender, and you will find meaning. Surrender, and you will find release. Take a deep breath, calm your mind. You know what's best, and what's best is you comply. Compliance will be rewarded. Are you ready to comply?"

"Absolutely, sir."

"Who are you and who do you work for?"

"I'm Agent 46, sir. I work for Hydra, sir."

"What is S.H.I.E.L.D?"

"The enemy, sir."

"What does the name 'Skye' mean to you?"

"Absolutely nothing, sir."

"I'm glad to hear it. You're dismissed."

"Thank you very much, sir. I appreciate the opportunity"

You feel like you are missing something important, but you can't find it in yourself to care.

You couldn't care less.


	2. Going...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This wasn't meant to be multi-chapter, but a couple of people commented wanting more, so, here you go.

You're aware that how you are now isn't the same as how you used to be, but somehow this doesn't bother you. Your life now has rhythm. It is constant and monotone and unsurprising and logical. That is how you like it.

You vaguely remember that before, life wasn't like this. Things changed all the time. People changed and places changed and _you_ changed.

You don't have to worry about any of that now. If you heart used to race when you were scared or excited, it doesn't now. If your cheeks used to colour when you were embarrassed, they don't now. Sure, emotions are something some people have, but not all people. You certainly don't.

You see sad people everywhere. Emotions are destroying them.

Anger kills people illogically. It's a waste.

And love? You're pretty sure you were in love once, and you're pretty sure it was consuming you, filling you with an infection that couldn't be treated.

It was entirely illogical.

\--

Your life is routine. You wake up, you go to work, you analyse, you go home, you sleep.

You get used to saying the right thing to Coulson when he calls. You feed him enough information to stop him from being suspicious, but don't really tell him anything. You nod and smile when he tells you that everyone's doing fine, nodding and smiling like these names mean anything to you.

You put all the personal mementos around your apartment in a box. They make you feel the closest thing to disgust you think is possible, but you don't throw them because if Hydra decides to bring back the old you, she can't be suspicious.

You go to sleep at the appropriate time to allow yourself the optimum amount of rest. You eat the right food so that your body can be in peak condition for when you are sent on a mission.

You will do anything to serve those you are loyal to.

\--

"Agent 46, you're required upstairs for a briefing."

"Yes, sir."

If you could feel excited, you think maybe this would be when that would happens. You reach the top floor, and sit down, silent and expectant.

"Agent, wouldn't you agree that this charade that you are still loyal to S.H.I.E.L.D. is getting rather tiresome?"

"Yes, sir."

"Of course you do. We also believe that it's going to be impossible for you to extract much data about them without arousing unnecessary suspicion. For these reasons, we believe it is time to send them a clear message."

"What message would you like me to send?"

"That you are in no way loyal to them any more."

"How do you wish me to send this message, sir?"

"We have received trusted intel that tells us that S.H.I.E.L.D. are going to attempt to raid a very specific warehouse in Chicago next week. You will be waiting for them."

You are so very ready to be rid of the annoyance that your former workplace has become.

\--

You are dressed all in black but your face is uncovered. This is the only way it will work.

You watch from the shadows as they arrive, see them split up, just like they were meant to.

You follow her and you are a thousand times more silent than you could have ever been before. You're better than you were before. You're ready to move on.

And then she turns a corner and you are there.

"Jemma?" Her voice is hopeful and it makes your stomach turn.

You try to pretend that the name still means something to you. You smile and hope it looks real.

"Hey, Skye."

Her face breaks with relief.

"Oh thank god. I've missed you so much," she's next to you in two steps and then she's hugging you and it feels entirely strange. "I've wanted to talk to you ever since you went undercover. I didn't like how we left things."

You're trying very hard not to look entirely emotionless.

But when she kisses you, you tell yourself that you don't feel anything. And you are so good at lying to yourself that it's easy to spin her around and put the knife up against her throat.

You can feel her heart rate speed up.

"Call the team here. Now."

"Jemma? What are you doing?" 

"Please stop calling me that. Call the team."

"Why?"

"Because in case you haven't noticed, I'm the one with the knife."

You feel her tense, like she's about to try something.

"I wouldn't, if I were you. I'm much stronger than you." You dig the knife in a little bit. She winces, and brings her hand up to her ear. You hear a crackle and then:

"Hey. Guys. Um. Could you come over to corridor 5C. Like, right now. Thanks."

It is almost over. You want it to be over.

"Why are you doing this?"

 _"We are aware that Miss Simmons held the agent who calls herself Skye in high regard._ _If you dispose of her, it will send a message. If you dispose of her in front of your old friends, it will_ break _them._ "

"Because it is logical."

And you keep telling yourself that. You keep telling yourself that until the doors at the end of the corridor burst open just in time for them to see you stab her just left of where you should have, just left of lethal.

You see their faces rise and fall and try to digest what's just happened.

You turn the corner as the first bullet fires. They do not come after you.

You decide to ignore the fact that you did not do the job properly. You are excellent at lying. Hydra does not have to know. No-one has to know that you failed entirely on purpose.

No-one has to know that you felt anything.

You refuse to be a fairy tale. Fairy tale's are not real life. Fairy tales are illogical.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eh. I think the first chapter was probably better but here you go.


	3. Gone.

Fairy tales aren't real, but this one is killing you.

\--

At first you are okay. You force those events to the back of your mind. They don't bother you. Nothing bothers you. No-one questions your actions. No-one but you was there. You wounded her, badly, and that will have been enough. You did enough to make sure that they will hate you now.

And you are okay. You ignore them; they are small, and insignificant, and they don't bother you. And then they do.

\--

Fairy tales aren't real, but this one is.

It's creeping through your mind and turning you inside out and it's making you hate it.

Every bit of hate fuels it, lets it spread, like an infectious disease slowing working its way through your brain.

You smile and it is a shot to the stomach.

You cry and it is a knife in your chest.

You remember that face and you are bleeding out slowly, drop by drop.

Your skull is being split open, emotions forcing their way inside and it is agony.

\--

And then the memories start trickling back in and you lose it.

Everything is opposites and you can't tell what is old and what is new. What is real and what is fake. What is right and what is wrong.

Up is down and left is right and night is day.

You are spiralling out of control. You are loyal to Hydra but you are loyal to S.H.I.E.L.D.

You had known that they had taken things from you, that the you you became wasn't the same as the old you, but until now it hadn't affected you.

It is affecting you now.

\--

If there is respite in sleep, you do not know it. Every night is a new hell, another awful mix of the person you were and the person you are. But no matter the dream, she is always there. Laughing or smiling or kissing you or bleeding out underneath your fingertips. You wake up screaming or crying or both.

If you think about her too long it cripples you - she was the trigger and you'd like to think that you hate her for it, but you can't. If there is one thing you are absolutely certain of, more than anything else, it is that you are in love with her again.

Somehow you've managed to keep going into work, keep acting like everything is normal. One half of you wants to break down, get them to do whatever they did to you again, but the other half won't let you. You find that if you immerse yourself, think of nothing else, then the pain reduces to an ache that you can almost ignore. A constant, heavy, poisonous ache, but one that's just about bearable.

And then you leave work and there is nothing else to think about and the pain isn't bearable.

\--

The pain peaks and you spend two days in bed paralysed. But when you wake up on the third day there is only one thing in your mind, the messiness buried under a sharp wave of anger that clarifies everything: they have to pay.

For what they have done to you, to your friends, to her. You know that the wound wouldn't have killed her instantly, but that doesn't mean that she isn't almost certainly dead by now.

And so you don't care what it takes. You don't care about anything, because you know this moment of clarity will not last. That tomorrow you will be back to constant confusion. This is your chance.

\--

It's painfully easy to access a gun once you're inside. Hydra's hubris is its fatal flaw. The gun is small and only has one bullet in it but that's all you need.

He is alone and you are sure he knows you coming but that doesn't bother you.

When he turns around, the barrel is pointed directly at his chest. You know that if you pull the trigger, you will not miss.

For a second you are both silent.

"Why did you do it?"

"That could be a question about many things."

"Why did you turn me into the perfect agent, and then," your voice cracks and your hands shake. "And then send me to the one person who could take it all away?"

He leans back against his desk, his eyes following your hands as they lower slightly so that you are still aiming at his chest.

"Quite frankly, you were a convenient subject for an experiment."

"What?" It comes out in a breath.

"We were worried about how base emotions were affecting the procedure."

You grit your teeth.

"So you made me kill her as part of an experiment?"

"Quite the opposite. We were almost certain you wouldn't. In fact, you got much further than we expected before backing out. She survived, if this is what your little suicide mission is about."

The clarity washes away.

If she is alive then you don't know what you are doing here. Your hands start to shake more violently and you drop the gun because suddenly you are in so much pain, a thousand emotions exploding through your head in high definition.

Somewhere a million miles away a door opens.

"She's too far gone. The process now will just destroy her completely. Get rid of her."

You hear a click and then you see her face and

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not too sure about this one. But eh. Here it is. Definitely the last one this time.


End file.
